


His Demon

by genmitsu



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Catholic Imagery, Demonic Possession, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 11:39:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13480722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genmitsu/pseuds/genmitsu
Summary: Jim Gordon, a Catholic priest, meets a demon he cannot exorcise.Catholic Priest!Jim/Demon!Oswald AU“Is my beautiful Father gay?” The demon asks, silkily. “Or is he such a devout man of God that the pleasures of flesh mean nothing to him?”





	His Demon

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the kinky stuff here. ~~Not.~~

The first time it happens Jim is taken aback, because a child’s eyes have no business looking so sharp. A child’s lips shouldn’t curve that way, shouldn’t be licked  _ like that _ . 

“Oh, you are a fine one, Father. I rather like you. Wouldn’t you like to sin with me?” The demon says through the child’s mouth, running the child’s hand over Jim’s cheek. Jim cannot look away, but he still continues uttering the words of prayer, the words of exorcism.

“You’re trying to hurt me, Father! It is so sweet,” the demon laughs as the child writhes before Jim. “I hate to cut it so short, but you win this round, my dear.”

And the demon leaves, the child’s eyes clearing again, turning brown again, the violent tremors subsiding, and Jim finishes the prayer in relief. But this isn’t over.

The next time the demon takes a female host, a beautiful blonde woman, and Jim doesn’t know the colour of her eyes because they are the demon’s eyes again, green and piercing.

“We meet again, oh sweetest Father. We meet again,” the demon purrs and plasters the woman all over Jim, pressing flush, and Jim has to wrestle with the physical manifestations that his body cannot control. The demon licks Jim’s neck with the woman’s tongue, stopping at the collar. Slender fingers poke at the white strip of cloth, ignoring Jim’s attempts to distance himself.

“Is my beautiful Father gay?” The demon asks, silkily. “Or is he such a devout man of God that the pleasures of flesh mean nothing to him?”

Jim prays harder than ever, his voice growing desperate, rosary gripped in his hand, his knuckles white. The woman kisses him sloppily on the mouth, tasting of ash, smelling of rot. Jim continues with the holy words all through the kiss, his lips never stopping, and the demon giggles and laughs before succumbing to throes of agony.

“Yes, my sweet! Bring more! Bring more!” The demon wails with the woman’s mouth, running her hands all over her body, cupping the breasts, reaching between her legs. “Hurt me more, Father!”

Holy water and salt, holy water and prayer, words, words of forgiveness, words of God’s eternal love. The demon smiles once more through the woman’s eyes and then it leaves, the woman coming around, curling into a ball. Her eyes were actually blue, Jim notices, when he tries to calm her down.

The next one… Jim doesn’t notice the possession. The man is big and tall, bearded, with crinkles at his greyish-blue eyes. He comes to the church to hear Jim’s homily, he stays to talk to him after. His name is Harvey and he is friendly and good-humoured. He works as a cop, a thankless job in Gotham, and Jim remembers Harvey in his nightly prayers. Then Harvey asks him out for drinks and proceeds to grope Jim in the bathroom of a bar, so dark nobody could notice anything, but Jim sees the green flicker and  _ knows _ .

“Is this one not to your liking, James, my sweetest? I tried so hard to find a nice one for you.” The demon knows his name now, the demon knows that Jim’s body is vulnerable to arousal, and that the prayers can’t help biology one bit. “Wouldn’t you like to just let go and let us fuck you? I promise I’ll be good, I’ll be  _ so good _ for you, Father, James, dearest!”

Jim prays and prays as Harvey’s hands roam all over him, as the demon’s voice hisses and purrs.

“I’ll stretch you and I’ll lick you all the way inside until you’re wet and ready for us. I’ll go slow first, James, I may be a demon but I am no monster. I’ll let you get used to us. And then I will fuck you into the wall until you’re raw and screaming for me,” the demon says with Harvey’s lips, his hand cupping Jim’s groin. “You’ll feel so good you shall forget all about your God.”

The words of God’s love and forgiveness drip from Jim’s tongue with his ragged breath, the rosary pressed against Harvey’s forehead, and the demon wails in despair as it leaves and Harvey collapses on the floor.

Through all of this Jim knows that it’s not his prayers and his rosary that make the demon leave. It hurts the demon and the host, the holy water and salt burn them, but the demon is not exorcised. It leaves of its own accord when it gets something from Jim - a touch, a taste, a kiss, a name. When it satiates itself with pawing over Jim, it leaves to find another host, but not to disappear completely.

Sometimes Jim feels that the demon takes more from him than it does with its touches. Because the words are ringing in Jim’s ears, the images and memories well up, and Jim has to restrain his body, has to restrain his soul and recite Pater Noster again and again. He dreads and yearns for the demon to manifest again.

Jim hasn’t been a priest for long. There was catholic school, but then there was this rebellious phase and his dad’s death and Jim dropped out and enlisted into the army, trying to break out of the mold. He returned a war hero, but he was drained and tired and out of place. That was when he discovered faith again, completed his education, got ordained. Found his true calling, he believed. Sure, he’s all alone in the world, but if he can help others and guide them to God, that must be the divine will at work.

How is it that a single demon overturns his life so much then? Is it God’s plan? Does He want Jim to prove his mettle, to withstand this torture in His name? Does He want Jim to fail, and see he was never meant for His kingdom at all?

Jim knows that doubts are the first step to the fall but he can’t help them. He prays and prays and takes vows, but everything goes to hell as soon as he sees those green eyes again.

Another beautiful woman, striking dark looks, a doctor. She talks to Jim after mass, conveying her worries about her upcoming marriage to a crime boss’ son. She smiles prettily, she’s funny and nice, and Jim likes her a lot and wants to help her find peace and be happy. She goes down on him after shoving him into a confessional, and Jim has to slap her to make her stop before he runs out of the booth and slams the door, preventing her from following. He tries to hold the door in place as he recites the words of exorcism again, his prayers sounding hollow as the demon claws at the door from the other side.

“Let me, let me, let me do it, Father!” comes the demon’s, the woman’s shrill voice. “I will make you feel so good! What can He offer you? The torture, the fear, the solitude! I can offer you love, I can love you, love, love you, James!”

Jim hears the demon cry but he won’t give in. He can’t let it take advantage of people, he can’t let it tarnish the woman’s soul and her body, and so he prays so desperately his voice raises higher and rings through the church and they both cry bitter tears on the opposite sides of the door, yearning and miserable, and then the demon leaves again.

Jim can’t go into confessionals after that, the tears start coming and a lump forms in his throat. He thinks of the demon and its pleas. He thinks of what it must be like, to hop from body to body, trying to find the one that will do the trick, that will not let it be lonely again.

Because the demon is lonely, Jim knows it as sure as he breathes. The demon is lonely and Jim doesn’t have the heart to exorcise it.

The next host is a young girl, a teenager, a street urchin and a thief. She hides in the church and steals from the kitchen, and Jim talks to her and offers his help. He can talk to some parishioners who’d be willing to take a chance on the girl and give her a place to live - or work, she’s old enough to be a courier or a shop assistant. She looks at him from under her curls and her eyes are greenish but not the demon green. She smiles as she takes him up on his offer, and it works out great - she’s bubbly and happy and healthy, and she comes into the church every Sunday and talks to Jim of her new life. Then he finds her on the rooftop, standing on the edge, her eyes forlorn and so, so green.

“Will you not love me, James?” the demon talks through her, leaning back dangerously, almost tipping over, and Jim’s heart can’t deal with it. He looks up at her face and for the first time he talks to the demon and not his God.

“Please let her go,” Jim says. “I beg of you.”

“Oh?” the demon tilts its, hers head. “My dearest Father! You’re not so cold-hearted after all. Or do you like them young?”

Jim holds out his hands. “Please don’t endanger her. Let her come down.”

“Will you hold us then, sweetest Father? Will you let us make love to you?”

“I can’t,” Jim says, his hands reaching for her, fearing she would fall. “Not her.”

The demon laughs. “Picky, my darling! Who do you want then? Tell me!”

And Jim says the only thing that makes sense in all of this. 

“You.”

If the demon possesses him, he could fight it. He could contain it, he could prevent others getting hurt by it again.

He wouldn’t be alone. It wouldn’t be alone.

“No!” The demon rages. “I want to touch you and hold you and fuck you, my dear, my James! I want to make you mine, not inhabit you like a suit!”

“Why me?” Jim asks and the green eyes look at him with so much understanding it might as well be God himself gazing down.

“Because you’re the one who called me and yearned for me and won’t leave me alone,” the demon says, accusing and angry. “Because you’re the one whom  _ I  _ can’t leave.”

Jim looks at the demon and takes a step forward.

“If you find a way to come to me without possessing anyone, I will be yours,” he says, resolute. “I will belong to you.”

The demon laughs and flings the girl at Jim, leaving her body. Jim has never heard such a sad laugh before.

He doesn’t see the demon for the longest time. At first he’s wary of the people, fearing they may be possessed, fearing they would start doing things they themselves would never want to, but he doesn’t see the flicker of green in any of their eyes. Jim should feel relieved, that the demon finally left him alone, that it doesn’t torment anyone because of him, but instead he longs for the demon so painfully, so terribly, no Pater Nosters or Ave Marias can help that. The masses and homilies and guidance don’t help, if anything, he becomes too impassioned in his services, talking of God’s love as if it was an ardent marriage or sex, and he gets a visit from his bishop and then Jim can’t get out of the confession.

Locked in a booth, dark and quiet, his tears come and he spills his darkest heart, telling the bishop of his doubts and failed attempts at exorcism, of the way the demon kept seducing him, of how Jim felt forsaken by God in this struggle for his soul and how desperately he-- 

Misses the demon who needed and wanted him, Jim means to say but doesn’t.

How desperately he needs help, Jim says instead.

The bishop listens to him and talks to him of salvation and hope and that God is all-forgiving and infinite in His love. He might as well be preaching to the deaf, so uninclined Jim is to dwell on it and repent. The bishop also gives him penance to subdue and fight his carnal desires and Jim does try.

He fasts and he keeps vigil, he sleeps on hard floor and he only utters words when he prays rosary, he only showers in cold water and he prays and he prays and he prays. But then the flicker of stars in his window at night looks  _ so green _ , and Jim ends up masturbating violently, abandoning all restraint, and he comes all over his clothes and he sobs.

Jim is becoming a shadow of himself, his good humour gone, his body thin, his eyes feverish and his skin always, always so hot. He hardly serves mass anymore. He is replaced by another priest and can now concentrate on his penance and overcoming his temptations. The parishioners worry about him, they come to see him, and Jim is glad to see them as well and talk to them, but he can’t look into their eyes without remembering how the brown, the blue, and the grey turned green and locked on him.

Jim sits in the garden one day, a secluded little spot where no one can disturb him when he prays with his eyes closed. He doesn’t remember when he last felt the divine presence and call, and despite his bishop’s assurances Jim feels abandoned, cast away. Unworthy of His love, unworthy of a place in His fold. He doesn’t want it anyway.

Then he hears uneven shuffling down the path and a small and awkward figure draws near. It’s a young man, pale and thin, almost gaunt. He walks with a limp and his archaic clothes are out of place even in all-enduring Gotham, his hair black and his nose a thin and pointy beak. But his eyes are that exact green that Jim abandoned his soul for.

“James, my sweetest,” he says, and his voice is unknown and familiar at once, its soft cadences being what Jim keeps hearing in the darkness of the night, in his dreams, in the glimmer of the stars. “My dearest.”

Jim stands up and reaches for the man’s hands, so soft, so warm. “Is that really you?”

“It is my mortal form, James,” the demon gives a lopsided smile. “It’s not as pretty as I would have liked to be for you, Father, but… you hardly left me any choice.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jim whispers as he embraces the demon in front of him. “You’re beautiful to me.”

The demon holds him close, awkwardly, and it’s such a funny notion that a demon should be so inexperienced with something basic like a hug, that Jim can’t help a grin. The demon smiles back and it’s like a million suns are warming Jim up from the inside, shining on his very soul. Jim closes his eyes, overwhelmed, and leans in to kiss those lips, and it is exactly like he imagined it to be and infinitely better at the same time, soft and hot and yielding.

“James, oh James,” the demon whispers in his ear when they finally part. “Mine.”

“Yours,” Jim murmurs back. “I promised.”

He looks into his eyes and he can’t get enough, everything around them forgotten.

“Do you have a name?” Jim asks quietly. “I can’t call you ‘demon’ or something.”

The demon tilts his head and contemplates. “I think this form looks like an Oswald.”

“Oswald,” Jim says, tasting the sounds, and the demon grins and pulls him into another kiss and then pushes him away hard.

Jim stumbles and falls, and he’s disoriented, but he hears the words of exorcism and prayer coming from behind Oswald, who’s writhing in pain as holy water is thrown all over him by the desperate looking replacement priest.

“We knew it would come for you, Father Gordon!” he screams. “Good job reeling it in!”

Oswald wails and sobs, his skin burned by the holy water, and he holds his hands out to Jim but he won’t call for him, pleading only with his eyes, his eyes.

The prayer and exorcism, the salt and the herbal smoke and the holy water, and it’s hurting him, and Jim has to choose. The priest’s voice keeps rising, Oswald is growing still, and he only whimpers now, having no way out, no escape, and only death and destruction ahead of him and then he will leave Jim  _ alone _ .

Jim scrambles to the replacement priest who looks at him with approval right until Jim wraps his hands around his neck and starts squeezing, choking the prayer, choking the life out of him. The words of God’s love die on the priest’s lips as he sinks to the ground under Jim’s vicious hold.

“Don’t!” comes the hoarse voice from behind him. Oswald. “Don’t do it, Jim, don’t.”

Jim stills and drops his hands as if burned. Oswald holds him from behind, and it’s the only thing that anchors him now, his heart’s desire and damnation all at once.

“Oh, Jim,” Oswald speaks softly into his hair. “Even if He may forgive such a transgression, you won’t be able to.”

 

They leave the church garden together, hand in hand, abandoning God’s kingdom and His ways, freely and willingly. It doesn’t matter that they fell, as long as they fell together.


End file.
